Won't you understand?"
"No," Mr. Sabin answered.
She beat the ground with her foot.
"You must understand," she murmured. "You are not like these fools
of Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in
the divorce court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille.
You heard her choose. She's at the ball to-night--and I have come
here to be with you. Won't you, please," she added, with a little
nervous laugh, "show some gratitude?"
The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down.
An official came across to them.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, "but we are
closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel."
"I am staying here," Mr. Sabin answered, rising, "but the lady--"
Lady Carey interrupted him.
"I am staying here also," she said to the man.
He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and
laid her fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
"Fortunately," he said, "I have not yet dismissed my own carriage.
Permit me."
* * * * *
Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way
along the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him
indeed.
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